


The Love Pentagon

by dramatorama



Series: comment fic [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatorama/pseuds/dramatorama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Elena thought HER life was awkward. Reeve tries, and fails, to explain the complex love lives of AVALANCHE and their various hangers-on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love Pentagon

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "drama tag" & "love pentagon" @ comment_fic

They've become a gang of tiptoers, have AVALANCHE. They need matching leather jackets with menacing patches: broken eggshells reading DON'T TREAD ON ME. Elena doesn't get it until one night Reeve takes her out for drinks and spells it out very, very carefully with shot glasses. He refills them every time he spins them around to illustrate, because the whiskey's on Reno, who is staring slack-jawed and gormless at Yuffie's ass as she abuses Tifa's new pinball machine. 

"See, he's head over heels for her." The clink of one little glass sliding into another. "Which is unfortunate, because a: she hates the Shinra company and everything they stand for, which as his employer is a major setback for young Reno here." Elena sneaks a glance over at Reno, but he doesn't seem to be aware of anything but that ninja. Goddamnit, she's not jealous, but it's freaking unfair that the kid is so damn short and still has legs up to her armpits.

"Are you listening, Laney?" Reeve's tipsy. She waves a bored hand in the general direction of his whiskey breath. "Go on."

"Okay, then, b: _she_ in turn is smitten with one of my employees, formerly of the General Affairs Department of the Shinra Electric Power Company. Investigative Division. She's also his boss." 

"What?" Not the smartest thing she's ever said, probably, but her head's too muzzy to actually work out which current or former suit he means. "Explain." How is that kid in charge of _anyone_ if she's still young enough to go out in what is, basically, her underwear? 

"Valentine over there." He nods to a booth in the corner, where a recently popular primetime honeytrap show would appear to be playing out most spectacularly. Sure enough, there's Vincent Valentine, as stock still as if carved out of ivory, staring rapt at what appears to be a bored-looking-

"A ten-year-old girl? How'd she even get in here?" 

Reeve shrugs expressively. "Your guess is as good as mine, but she's probably allowed to _stay_ in here because she's actually twenty, and she'll fight anyone who says different."

Elena slowly lets her head fall to the table with a thump. "What next, Reeve? Your robot? The talking dog?" She raises her head, just enough to see Reeve wince. "In a manner of speaking..." She looks back at the booth where Shelke is ignoring Valentine, and sees the stuffed cat clutched under her arm wriggling its way out. The girl looks down at it, and smiles; holds it more firmly. It looks unhappy. 

And Elena thought _her_ life was awkward. She takes another drink, and things get hazy. 

Around one or two in the morning, things liven up a little when Cait Sith finally makes his escape from a sleeping Shelke's arms and makes a beeline straight for Reno's lap.


End file.
